Hell Hath No Fury
by Sheri Ledding
Summary: Voldemort took a step too far with Ginny Weasley. Beware the woman scorned. Femmeslash.
1. Rescue

_This has been __slightly__ toned down for admission on for the full version, see my site. (Majority of edits affect Chapter 4.)_

_Disclaimer: Not mine._

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"Never!" Hermione struggled against magical bonds.

"Don't you say 'never' to me. He _will_ come for you, you will call him here to us. I know you can." The voice was deadly calm. Hermione turned her head to avoid those eyes, those awful eyes. Instead, she saw Nagini, that horrible snake, slithering about her feet. She shuddered involuntarily.

She knew she _could_ call Harry and he _would_ come. But it was her duty as a friend not to do that. The call system was both a blessing and a burden. For this particular moment, she chose to curse Ron and his bright ideas.

It was useless to continue arguing with Voldemort, he would not take 'no' as an answer, and the more she struggled, shouted, and spat, the more the barely visible ring of hooded Death Eaters laughed at her. So, she stood, held in the center of the ring by bonds stronger than she could ever hope to escape.

"Call him."

She shook her head.

"So be it. _Crucio!_"

The pain racked her body, she wanted to convulse and writhe on the floor, but the bonds prevented her. She was forced to remain standing as she screamed, tears burning down her cheeks. Then, as suddenly as it had taken hold, the curse released her.

"Call him."

She panted, unable to move just yet. As she regained control, she lifted her head. "No."

"_Imperio!_"

She felt her cares fly off her shoulders. No, she couldn't succumb to it. Harry had spent the seven years since they had graduated from Hogwarts preparing them, all of them, for situations like this. She grappled for control, but it slid away. In her head, a voice urged her, 'Call him.'

She could just call him. He would come and save her, he would tell the snake off. Perhaps he would even finally defeat the evil wizard. But no! Just as easily, he could come and be defeated. The Order had discussed this many times, he would have the fight on _his_ terms. She couldn't call. She concentrated on that thought, pushing the voice out of her head. "NO!"

"How _dare_ you!" The voice rose with anger as he stepped around in front of her. He raised his wand to curse her again, but a hooded figure rushed up to him.

"Excuse me, Master."

"What?"

The Death Eater spoke too quietly for Hermione to hear him, but Voldemort seemed very interested, perhaps even disturbed. He looked at Hermione again. "All right, mudblood. I will leave you to think about your answer. My Death Eaters will be aiding you in your thinking process. I shall return!" With that, he disapparated.

Well, that was strange. Hermione didn't have much time to ponder on it though, the circle was closing in around her, masked faces coming closer. No one said a word, they just closed in. Panic rose within her. What were they going to do?

She never found out. Just as they stopped walking, there was a crashing above their heads. A shower of shattered glass tinkled on the floor, immediately followed by a blur of brown and red. It crouched down just in front of Hermione on the floor. Ginny held still just long enough for Hermione to recognize her, then she was a blur of motion.

Her waist-length unruly red hair was thrown up in a sloppy bun and bits of it flew around her face as she spun into the Death Eaters' attack.

Like a flash, a leather clad leg soared through the air, bringing a stiletto heel into contact with one masked character's temple, sending him flying across the room. Wait, leather?

Then Hermione remembered. Ginny had been on an undercover mission as a muggle, drug dealing, she thought. That explained the tight leather pants and jacket, as well as the four inch stilettos, although, they only brought Ginny up to 5'6".

As the twenty-three-year-old whirled about, flinging Death Eaters every which way, she reminded Hermione of women in actions films. She had all of the moves; she had worked with Harry so hard on them. In the last six years, she had become an expert swordsman, a black belt in three forms of martial arts, and a very competitive boxer. In essence, at 5'2" and 100 lbs, she was unstoppable. Ginny made it all look ten times better than the women in the action films. They tended to be lean, lank, and overworked. Like gymnasts, they looked as though they spent their life training for their role.

What made Ginny different? Perhaps the fact that she actually had spent her life training for this. Unlike the emaciated and prematurely aged women of the muggle film world, Ginny wore her strength, well defined and solid, and retained the verve of a twenty-something through the very work that seemed to suck it from others.

The redhead made short, but temporary, work of the dozen or so Death Eaters in attendance. She ran over to Hermione. She did a cursory check of the brunette's condition, which was 'bound.' "'Mione, where's your wand? I haven't got mine, it's still at the house."

Hermione indicated a table across the room. "I think it's over there." Ginny sprinted over to it, sweeping the wand off the table, releasing Hermione's bonds from a distance, and indicating the door off to the side.

Hermione took a moment to rub her ankles, then set off for the door, massaging her wrists as she went. Ginny got there first and the brunette followed her back and forth through all manner of confusing hallways. Hermione's robe billowed behind her, her hair caught in the same draft that was pulling Ginny's unruly mop out of its bun.

The women broke into another large room, finding themselves surrounded by at least fifteen Death Eaters. "'Mione, catch!" Ginny tossed Hermione her wand as the attackers began to close in. Catching it, the robed woman immediately began flinging spells, taking out at least one Death Eater with each. Ginny was doing marvelously on her own. Hermione had never hoped to attain the younger woman's mastery of hand-to-hand combat, though she could protect herself reasonably if she was hard pressed. This was why Gin got the muggle assignments.

As soon as the last masked figure fell, the women set off again. They ran at full tilt, how Ginny managed it in stilettos, Hermione would never know. Finally, they saw an opening. The moment they cleared the building, they popped out of existence, apparating back to the Order Headquarters.


	2. Return

Before the two women had regained their balance, they were mobbed. 12 Grimmauld Place was filled with people, mostly Order members, and everyone was trying to hug them at once. Some of the usuals were missing, however. Ron, Harry, and Remus were nowhere in sight, and Dumbledore apparated in a minute or two after them.

"Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley got to them first. "Are you all right? Did we get you out of there in time?"

She couldn't answer at first, completely smothered by the hug she received. "Yes, I'm fine. Gin was right on time." She shot Ginny a smile. The redhead blushed a bit.

"I wish I could have been a little earlier," she managed around her twin brothers' twin hugs. Her father walked over and began wondering aloud about her clothing: why muggles liked it, the pros and cons.

When Mrs. Weasley finished with Hermione, however, she turned on Ginny's outfit like a turn of the weather. She clicked her tongue. "Gin, why are you wearing those wretched clothes?"

"Mum, it was a _muggle_ assignment, undercover, you know? I'm a big girl, I can dress myself."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Moody got to her first, patting her on the back. "Good work in there, you'll have to tell us all about it."

Tonks agreed. "Yes, everything!" They began to pull Hermione toward some chairs.

"Not until she gets cleaned up!" Ginny interrupted, pulling her instead up the stairs, her heels clicking as she went.

Around the room, heads shook as Charlie murmured, "How could we forget?" 

Ginny led Hermione into one of the many bedrooms and shut the door behind them. She turned, grabbed the brunette's head on both sides, and kissed her, hard.

After a moment, she pulled back. "Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again." The next kiss was softer, more welcoming. "I thought I would never see you again." Her thumb rubbed gently over a bruise on Hermione's cheekbone and her hands slid down the brunette's neck to her shoulders.

"I thought so, too." Tears began to run down Hermione's cheeks as she wrapped her arms around Ginny to pull her in closer. There was silence as the two cried and kissed and recovered. Finally, Hermione felt ready to break the spell with speech. "Mmm…I think I like you this height. And the clothes are a definite plus." She ran a hand over Ginny's rear and down her thigh, then back up again. All of the muscles were pulled tight because of the heels, hard as rock. She did it again, looking directly into Ginny's clear blue eyes. They kissed again.

"We have to get you out of that robe, it's a mess." Ginny reached for the fastenings. Hermione's hands stopped her.

"Ginny," she kissed her, "Babe. You don't…you don't know what they did to me there." She looked at her feet.

"Let me find out." The redhead began to slowly unfasten and remove Hermione's robe, but was soon tearing her clothing off, gasping in despair. When the brunette was reduced to her bra and panties, Ginny stood before her crying. "How could they _do_ this?"

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and allowed her tears to fall to the floor. Almost every part of her body was bruised, it appeared that her ribs had been kicked or pummeled. There were large dragging friction burns on each of her thighs, not fresh but scabbed and turning yellow with infection. Worse than all of these, though, was not an injury, but an insult. At the nape of her neck, on the insides of her wrists, and on the tops of her feet were black, menacing Dark Marks.

Ginny recovered quickly, gathering the older woman in her arms. "Shh…it's going to be okay." She knew it would be; she was going to _make_ it okay. She led Hermione to the bed and sat her down, then sprinted to the door. "Mum!" 

Downstairs, Mrs. Weasley's head whipped to the stairs. Her only daughter's shout had carried the fear of life. She was atop the stairs before anyone else even managed to look over.

"What is it, Gin?" She queried the distraught young woman.

The leather clad woman shook her head. "She should have told us right away." She pointed into the room.

Turning into the room, she stifled a shout. The last few years had trained Mrs. Weasley as a first class mediwizard, caring for all of the Order members and their often perilous missions. She bustled over to Hermione and immediately began shouting commands at Ginny. "Gin, get my wand and the aid kit. While you're down there, ask Albus to call Poppy, I'm going to need back up. Actually, Hermione, dear," Hermione looked up. "Do you mind if Albus sees you…?" The brunette's head shook. "Alright. Gin, send him up and have your father send for Poppy."

Ginny ran downstairs. "Dad, call Madam Pomfrey. Charlie, where's Mum's wand?" She grabbed the kit in the bathroom. When she stepped back into the room, Charlie had the wand and Mr. Weasley was standing by the flu. She grabbed the wand with shaky hands and gave it and the kit to Albus. "Professor Dumbledore, could you go up there, please?"

"Certainly."

Madam Pomfrey stepped out of the fire and followed him, brushing off soot. Ginny watched them ascend, barely conscious of her tears until Charlie hugged her. Then she let them loose.


	3. Revelations

Ginny was past tears, past bewilderment, past it all. Now, she was angry. The whole Order was in the kitchen, having tea. Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore, and Mrs. Weasley were still upstairs with Hermione. Ron, Harry, and Remus had arrived some fifteen minutes ago, quickly filing in from another room.

No one spoke. Harry had sat beside Ginny and put an arm on her shoulder, but she soon shook it off. She glared at her tea dregs, stewing at the Death Eaters that hurt Hermione. Ron, Fred, George, and Charlie looked almost as angry. Mr. Weasley helplessly blundered around the kitchen for a while and finally sat down to stare at his tea cup.

Moody sat in a corner, sipping from his flask and grumbling at intervals. Tonks was nearby, changing her hair and nose every couple of minutes out of nervous tension. Silence reigned.

There was a noise at the top of the stairs; every head turned. Hermione descended, wrapped in a bathrobe. For a moment, no one moved. When they did, it was en masse. No one wanted to touch her though, she looked so fragile. She made her way into the sitting room in a bubble of friends, only one hand touching her at all, Ginny's in the small of her back. When she alighted on a couch, the redhead sat beside her and pulled her bare feet up into her lap to examine them. Dark smudges still stained her insteps, but the awful image was obliterated. Ginny checked Hermione's wrists to similar effect, then snuggled comfortably in beside her, an arm around her waist, as everyone took seats around them. "'Mione, babe, can you tell us? What happened?"

Mrs. Weasley, Madam Pomfrey, and Dumbledore entered last and took seats. Dumbledore looked about, then addressed Hermione. "Yes, Ms. Granger, if you could possibly."

Hermione nodded and threaded a hand through Ginny's. "I'll try. Where should I begin?"

Harry had grown very serious in recent years. His answer was serious, but not reprimanding. "The last we knew, you were doing a patrol run out by Hogwarts. The refugees reported your arrival and then lost track of you." If at all possible, he sobered more. "That was supposed to be my run."

"Did anyone find my broom?" There was a general shake of heads. "Oh, because I put it up against a tree just off of the grounds right before I stepped on that portkey. I was following some mysterious sparks."

Ron jumped in, powered by frustrated anger. "You should have been with a partner!"

Hermione flinched a bit. "No one thought it was anything important. I mean, we didn't think Voldemort knew Hogwarts was turned into a refugee camp. As far as we knew, he thought it was abandoned."

Tonks put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "So you stepped on a portkey?"

Hermione gratefully returned to the story. "Yes, and it took me to a cave, or a castle, perhaps a dungeon? I'm not entirely sure, but there was a ring of Death Eaters waiting there." She caught her breath for a moment.

"They didn't expect me. Harry, I think they expected you." He put his head in his hands. Ginny rubbed a circle in the small of her back.

Ron interrupted again. "Why didn't you put out a call? We could have been in motion days ago if you had alerted us!"

"I couldn't. They could tell every time I tried. They wanted me to. They were ready for you." Her grip tightened on Ginny's hand. "They told me to, and I refused. So they kicked me. A few of them just stood over me and kicked me over and over again. I tried to apparate out, but there were wards. And I just stopped paying attention to them and kept saying no."

Now it was Ron's turn to look guilty. He had developed the spell that bound them all with that calling ability. But he didn't know Voldemort knew so much about it. "I'm sorry, 'Mione."

"No, Ron, it's alright. I'm fine. But they weren't happy that I wouldn't call. I was nearly unconscious, I couldn't walk, so they dragged me off through, whatever it was I was in. It burned so badly. I wanted to scream, but I didn't. I bit my tongue so hard it bled. For a minute, one of the Death Eaters thought I was coughing up blood. Then they finished dragging me off on the other side. They threw me in a dark room and left me there, but there was always someone just outside. Always." Her grip tightened through al of this. "They didn't feed me or bring me water. I thought I was going to die there." She paused. "How long was I gone?"

Mrs. Weasley laid a hand on her arm. "Four days, dear."

"I didn't know. It could have been a week or a day. It felt like a year. Then, they came and took me out again. This time, I walked, as best I could. They bound me up in that hall, Voldemort was there. He used his wand to hurt me. When I wouldn't call, he put the Dark Mark on my wrist. It seared. So much. I said no again, so he did the other wrist. Then my feet, and my neck. He probably would have gone all of the way down my spine, but he stopped to try the unforgivable curses again."

Ginny sucked in. Fred breathed the single word on everyone's mind, "Again?"

Hermione nodded. "Then…then he left. I don't know why. He said he'd be back, but Ginny came while he was gone." She looked at her girlfriend and smiled a little, then leaned to whisper in the redhead's ear. "You're hot when you're kicking ass."

Ginny grinned and blushed. Harry, Ron, and Remus also wore grins. Hermione shot them a quizzical look and Remus answered, "We know why he left."

Hermione moved a bit on the couch, getting comfortable. Then she gave Remus a look that plainly said, 'tell on.'

"When the refugees reported you missing, we were all very worried. Harry here especially."

"Thanks, Rem." Harry looked at his friend, then at Hermione. "That was supposed to be my run. You should have woken me up for it."

Ginny jumped in in Hermione's defense. "Harry, you take shifts and runs off of people all the time. In fact, you were asleep then because you had just done one of Bill's shifts and two of Fletcher's runs. We could have split those up while they were on assignment."

Remus interrupted again. "Either way, they reported you missing. We didn't find your broom, but we did find a backup portkey they had planted. We traced it to get your location. Ron and I were assigned as your rescue team, but Gin here wouldn't have us go without her. Neither would Harry. He, however, was told to stay. We couldn't risk him at Voldemort's castle; yes, he is currently occupying a castle the size of Hogwarts over in Wales." Hermione wasn't surprised exactly, she just hadn't expected that. He continued.

"So, Ron and I told Harry to stay and Ginny to finish her assignment." He shot the redheaded woman a glare.

"I did!"

"That was no way to deal quietly with a collection of dark wizarding artifacts on the muggle market, blowing them all up in a warehouse."

"I made it look realistic," she insisted.

"All right, the point is, Ron and I did the first part ourselves." Ron nodded. "We covered the distance by broom and camped out nearby until we could figure a way in. Harry found us there." Another one of Remus' patented 'I'm older than you and should be mad' glares shot in Harry's direction.

Harry had to speak in his own defense. "I couldn't stand it that you got caught on my shift. 'Mione, you know that wild thestrals wouldn't keep me from helping my friends."

She nodded and Ron continued the story. "So, Harry here suddenly plopped out of the sky with his broom and refused to leave. He wanted to go in to get you, but we still didn't know where you were. The three of us did some checking around, but you must have been down in the dungeons. Then, this morning, they dragged you into the hall at the center of the castle. You didn't notice, but it had a huge glass ceiling. Remus, Harry and I began making a plan at the tent when Gin suddenly apparated in."

Remus interrupted him. "We all brought brooms for use's sake. The apparition wards only covered the building."

"Right." Ron confirmed. "So Gin here comes popping in insisting that we tell her where you are. So we did. Her answer was 'Create a distraction.'" He gave Gin a slightly reprehensive look.

Harry picked up the tale. "So we did. I swear on my parents' grave, Ron went up and knocked on the castle door. When one of the Death Eaters answered, he put on the best act I've seen in a long time. 'Oh, I can't live with them! They don't appreciate me! I'll bring you Harry! Voldemort is the best!' All he needed was a skirt and pompoms. That's why Voldemort left. I followed Ron in and the second they stopped watching him, I pulled him under the invisibility cloak. It took us a while, but we slipped out."

Remus told the other perspective. "While they were doing that, Ginny actually apparated up into the air _above_ the hall and fell right through the glass. You saw what happened then."

Hermione grinned at Ginny. "My hero."


	4. Remorse

The Order talked well into the night. Conversation turned from the events of Hermione's capture to the errand that had held Dumbledore up. He had been at the ministry.

Fudge had all but outlawed Dumbledore for his "radical" ideas nine years before. Now, he had been forced to admit the return of Voldemort. However, he continued to refuse Dumbledore's advice and theories.

For the first few years, Dumbledore had tried to sway Fudge's opinion. Again and again he had appealed to the Ministry. But Fudge would not be moved. Instead, he was carefully covering up Voldemort's return, quickly falling from omitted truths to blatant propaganda.

At 12 Grimmauld Place, a radio was always tuned in to the Wizarding Wireless so they could monitor Fudge's "successes" against the "rebel" Order and Voldemort, who, over the course of the last year or so, had apparently joined forces. No one really liked listening to it, it tended to upset people.

Dumbledore had eventually given up trying to enlist the Ministry and instead snuck into the building to attempt conversions of sorts. In particular, he tried to reunite families. He had been in Percy Weasley's office while Ginny was blasting her way through Voldemort's castle. Percy was not the only stray within the Ministry, but he was Dumbledore's special case. Out of basic respect, Percy never reported Dumbledore's visits, but he never seemed to sway. Dumbledore's report today was the same. The Weasley's mourned their missing member, but he was hardened against them.

Hermione fell asleep on Ginny's shoulder during the discussion. She cared about the Weasleys very much, but she needed sleep. When her head fell heavily on Ginny's shoulder, Harry finally picked her up and took her to bed.

When he returned, it was to a different Ginny. While Hermione had been in the room, Ginny had showered affection on her, tried to make her as comfortable as possible. Now, the redhead was hard, angry. When he stepped into the room, she wheeled on him.

"What are we going to do about it?"

He held his hands up innocently. "I'm sorry, what?"

She was on a roll. "Voldemort's popping Order members right off Hogwarts grounds! We have waited too long! It's time to do something!" She was addressing the room as a whole, but now she turned back to Harry. "So, what are we going to do?"

Harry put his hands down. "Sit down, Gin."

Ginny sat and Charlie put a hand on her arm. "You can't force Harry's hand. He'll fight when he's ready."

"No, Charlie, she's right." Harry sighed and took a seat. "I have waited too long, putting off the war. It's time to do something, it's been time to do something for a while."

The room was silent. Great things were happening. The WWN floated in from the next room.

"...The Dark Lord and the radical Order of the Phoenix have taken to vandalism, breaking windows in the old preserved Malfoy Castle. It is suspected that this is a reminder of the murders of Lucius, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy three years ago, all of which have been attributed to Order members..."

"Look what they've done to us," Mrs. Weasley murmured quietly. They all knew that Voldemort had killed the Malfoy's when Draco had rebelled. He had assumed that Draco's usurpation stemmed from his parents and murdered them all. The castle Hermione had been at hadn't belonged to the Malfoy's though. While they had a large manor, the castle was actually an old abandoned ruin. No one could say to whom it belonged.

Ginny turned to Harry again. "What are we going to do?"

He looked up at her, remorse in his eyes. "You mean what am _I_ going to do."

"No, I mean what are _we_ going to do." Ginny stood and walked over to Harry. "We are all in this together. He has done awful things to all of us."

"But, Ginny, you know the prophecy. It has to be me, and I might not make it."

"Yes, Harry, you have to fight, but nothing says you have to do it alone. I can't speak for anyone else, but I will be fighting right beside you. No matter what. Together, we'll make it."

Ron stood behind her. "Me too, mate."

This was followed by a round of nods and 'of course's. Harry graced them all with his quirky smile. "We'll see. We should begin planning. I need - _we_ need as many advantages as can be arranged."

Mr. Weasley interrupted him. "Let's plan tomorrow. It's getting far too late."

"You're right, of course," Harry conceded. Everyone stood and said goodnight with hugs in abundance.


	5. Reunion

Harry postponed planning until Bill and Mundungus got back from their assignment. Unexpectedly, they arrived only a day later. A clattering awoke the Order before the sun rose.

Ron reached the top of the stairs first, crouched and ready for intruders. He heard a voice hiss in the dark, "Fletcher! That's my mum's Ming vase from my parents' anniversary! If you break it…"

He recognized his older brother's voice and threw on the lights. "Bill!"

Bill Weasley and Mundungus Fletcher stood blinking at the base of the stairs. Fletcher held the vase in question some six inches off the floor. At least, he thought it was Fletcher. The two were hardly recognizable, clothed in rags, hair matted, dirt smudged on their faces over rough stubble. He could barely make out his brother's vibrantly red hair. Bill awkwardly held a large bottle. He looked at them for a moment, then the smell got to him.

His hand flew to his nose. "'Cor, Bill! You two reek! Mum is going to have you in the shower so fast…"

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley emerged behind him, as did Dumbledore, Harry, Remus, Ginny, Hermione, the twins, Tonks, and Moody. They were all blinking in the light, rubbing their eyes and tightening knots on their bathrobes. Fletcher quickly set the vase back on its stand. Bill thrust the bottle at him, a disgusted look on his face. Charlie was the last one out of his room, yawning blearily. "What's going on?" He looked around, finally spotting the two at the base of the stairs. "Hi Mundungus…Bill? Is that you?"

"Yeah, Charlie. I have grown to so love undercover work." The dripping sarcasm surprised the non-Weasleys; it was a well-developed but rarely exhibited side of Bill's personality. He clumped up the stairs, brining the awful smell closer. Everyone held their noses. The landing was rather full at this point, but everyone still managed to pull back out of his way. "I'm taking a shower."

At the bottom of the stairs, Mundungus took a swig from the bottle. "Good idea, mate, you smell like yesterday's rubbish!"

Working their way out of Bill's path, the twins started down the stairs. The released their noses and quickly grabbed them again. George spoke, "Fletch, mate, you're just as bad!"

Fred added, "Possibly worse."

Mundungus stopped and sniffed his arm. "Nah, not bad at all. But if it bothers you, I'll wash after Billy-boy."

All of the Weasleys flinched. 'Billy-boy'?

When they had both cleaned up, shaved, and found some clean clothes, everyone collected in the sitting room again. Charlie opened up the conversation. "So, Bill, why are you back so soon? We hadn't expected you for another week at least."

Bill didn't get to answer.

"Mission was interrupted. Someone blew up the secret meeting site." Fletcher said, off-handedly.

"Blew it up!?" Mrs. Weasley seemed suddenly very worried.

"Calm down, mum. We weren't there. We tracked that Death Eater sub-cult to this warehouse in Manchester – "

"Manchester?" Ginny interrupted Bill's explanation.

"Yeah, Manchester. We were pretending to be homeless and living in the nearby park. When they had meetings, we snuck over and used those extendable ears the twins gave us." Fred and George grinned. "But we only managed to drop in on one meeting, and nothing really happened. Then the warehouse blew sky high. No one really knows how, the muggle police were convinced it was a prank. Some novice explosives were discovered, but I'm pretty sure it was magical. We tried to keep track of the cult, but we lost them, so we came back."

"Umm…Bill?" Ginny's hands worried in her lap. "I think I blew up the warehouse."

"What? Why?" The group filled Bill and Mundungus in on the events they had missed, including Ginny's careless destruction of the warehouse in question.

"Wow, Hermione, are you alright?" The brunette nodded. Bill took a deep breath and blew it out. "Well then, we lost the cult, but we saved 'Mione here. Good work, Gin."

"Hey, no one's perfect." Ginny defended herself dismissively.

"Well, based on what we _did_ hear, things are heating up. Not to mention, I'm pretty sure there are more traps like the one that caught Hermione." Bill took the moment to summarize their findings.

Harry stood. "Which brings us to our next order of business. It is time to fight." The room became solemn. This was the moment many of them had spent over a decade preparing for. Harry paced back and forth for a moment. He sighed and ran a hand through his messy black hair.

"Harry, are you sure?" Mrs. Weasley, like the rest, knew that the moment had come, that it could be put off no longer, but she had to ask, she had to be sure.

"Yes. Yes, it is time. I've put it off too long. Too many people have been hurt." His eyes, deep and thoughtful, glinting green, fell on Hermione. He shut them and turned his head. After a moment, he spoke again. "We have all been planning for this for years, but this is no way to begin. For tonight, I suggest we rest up, and tomorrow we'll start putting our plans into motion."


End file.
